


The Most Important Thing

by PeachEclair



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Swearing, ezio whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-10 04:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21469708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeachEclair/pseuds/PeachEclair
Summary: Ezio often forgets important things. Leonardo is less than impressed when Ezio forgets to take care of himself, however.
Relationships: Ezio Auditore da Firenze & Leonardo da Vinci
Kudos: 30





	The Most Important Thing

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first work on this site, so apologies if the formatting is a bit off! This was originally published on Fanfiction.net, under the same username.

Ezio Auditore da Firenze usually found himself in difficult situations. As an Assassin, it was practically guaranteed. And as a ‘notorious criminal’ (according to the guards) it was certain. Ezio, however, had never remembered running on top of rooftops being  _ this _ difficult. That was probably due to the fact that his vision was swimming, and his feet were regularly stumbling.  _ What is wrong with me? _

His thoughts continued to go unanswered as a volley of arrows interrupted his reverie, and he harnessed what little concentration was available, and sprinted faster as the dull ‘thunk’ of flint-tipped arrows hit the clay tiles. 

Ezio glanced behind him, unsure of the distance between him and the pursuing guards. They were still ten metres behind him, which meant that he could evade them if he managed to do something drastic. 

He turned his head towards the edge of the building, now two metres away. Perfect! A leap of faith would surely be enough to shake off the guards! So as the Florentine’s feet raced ever closer to the ledge, he readied himself for the jump, keeping his feet in place, and prepping his shoulders. Ezio sprung off the side of the roof, preparing to turn in mid-air and land safely in the pile of hay below him.

What he did not prepare for, however, was the arrow, that struck his left shoulder, just below the collarbone.

The impact of the arrow pushed Ezio off-balance, and as he hastily tried to correct himself mid-air, he failed to include into the equation the hay below. With a heavy crash, he landed in the hay pile and waited. He immediately knew that something was wrong with his ankle. It shouldn’t feel like it had been run over by a flaming cart. The radiating pain was extremely distracting, but somehow the young Assassin didn’t cry out in relief as he heard the guards leave. 

Now he had to assess the damage. 

With a barely stifled cry of agony, Ezio pushed himself out of the cart, and leaned heavily against it, willing the black spots that had suddenly appeared to leave.  _ How bad is it? _ The Assassin thought bewildered, and slightly alarmed. He answered his own question when he looked down at the injured leg. 

_ Oh, merda… _

The ankle was swelling, the purple and red mottled bruising indicating that a few blood vessels had ruptured. The ankle was slightly  _ too  _ malleable to be normal, which meant that not only had Ezio broken a few bones but in several places as well. Looking over at the broken wood on the hay cart, Ezio came to the conclusion that  _ that _ was what he had hurt his leg on. He was never using hay carts again.

_ Maybe it _ ’ _ s not  _ that _ bad. _ The Florentine thought to himself.  _ I could try to limp home… _ However, no sooner had he set the injured leg on the ground, his vision immediately turned white.

Ezio woke up on the ground. He knew immediately where he was because whatever he was lying on was hard, and he saw the cursed hay cart out of the corner of his eye. Oh, how he  _ hated _ that cart. Anyway, Ezio needed to get somewhere safe.  _ Carefully _ , this time. 

With this in mind, Ezio slowly rolled onto his right side, and in a very painful and slightly dizzy motion, pushed his torso up as he swung his legs around. He was now sitting up. This was good. Now he just needed to stand up. The young Assassin grabbed onto the side of the cart and carefully stood up, using the cart to support most of his weight. Ezio was now standing, well-  _ leaning _ with his right ankle suspended just above the ground, and his left arm (with the arrowhead still in his shoulder, even though the rest of the arrow had broken off) limp, hanging practically useless. As well as this, Ezio could feel his vision darken as the shooting pain started to recede.  _ Uh oh, that’s not good. _ Almost directly after thinking this, Ezio collapsed once more. This time though, he was certain that he heard a voice yell;

“Ezio?!”

*****

When Ezio came to, he was momentarily confused. He was lying on something soft- a bed. But whose bed? He hadn’t had a proper place to sleep since leaving Monteriggioni three weeks prior, so where was he?

His question was answered when he heard a familiar voice say softly; 

“You gave us quite a scare, Ezio.”

Ezio relaxed considerably. He knew this voice, he knew that he was safe and cared for. He opened his eyes but only saw ceiling. Where was the voice’s owner?

“ _ Mi dispiace,  _ Leonardo. I didn’t mean to trouble you.” The Florentine Assassin answered his friend.

Leonardo sighed, and came into Ezio’s view, looking worried. The painter carried a bowl of water and a cloth in his hands and set them down on the table beside the bed before turning to his friend.

“Evidently not,” Leonardo spoke sadly.

Ezio frowned, puzzled. “I’m sorry?” He questioned his friend.

Leonardo soaked the cloth in water before applying it to Ezio’s forehead. The cool water was bliss for Ezio’s fevered body, but the Assassin could only concentrate on his friend’s unusual behaviour.

“I mean,” Leonardo began, “that you are neglecting to ask for help. That you don’t have your priorities sorted. I understand your dedication to the Creed, but you need to realise, the most important thing isn’t the mission, but your  _ health _ .”

Ezio looked sheepish and averted Leonardo’s gaze for a few seconds. He knew what his best friend was saying was true, but that didn’t make it seem any easier to admit.

“How long had you been going without sleep, Ezio? And how long were you planning on ignoring your illness?” The painter continued, raising his eyebrow and crossing his arms.

“Two weeks? Maybe… three?” Ezio spoke in a soft voice. Leonardo was not going to like that.

“THREE?! Ezio! You could have died! Just-” Leonardo closed his eyes mid-rant, and breathed deeply before speaking;

“I just, worry that you don’t value your safety enough. I don’t like the idea of you injured, but the thought that I could prevent it? Please promise me Ezio, that you’ll take better care of yourself. Ok?” Leonardo felt guilty pleading, but this was important.

Ezio nodded. “I promise, Leonardo.” A grin appeared on the young Assassin’s face.

“Now, we need to talk about your bedside manner. It’s appalling!”

Leonardo groaned, but couldn’t remove the smile on his face. Ezio would doubtlessly get hurt again in the future, but at least his priorities were in order.    
  


Translations:

  * Merda - Swear word 
  * Mi dispiace - I'm sorry


End file.
